


We Fit, You and Me (Like the Valleys Fit the Mountains and the Water Fits the Sea)

by Shadowobsidian



Series: We Fit [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blowjobs, CEI, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dominant Steve Rogers, Face-Fucking, Fingering, I'm making it a thing, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mounting, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Omega Bucky Barnes, Riding, Rimming, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Scenting, Size Difference, domestic sex, if that's a thing, submissive bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25734646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowobsidian/pseuds/Shadowobsidian
Summary: Steve's rut is triggered early. Steve's rut is different than other Alphas'. He doesn't want to scare Bucky with it. Bucky is far from scared.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: We Fit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750369
Comments: 21
Kudos: 402





	1. Chapter 1

He was an Alpha.

He had control.

He _did._

Despite how he was feeling at this very instant, he had control.

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Steve growled, struggling not to bare his teeth at the Beta in front of him.

“Exactly what I said, Goldilocks,” Tony Stark—Beta, Bucky’s boss, garage owner, and arrogant asshole--said. “He asked if he could dip out early, and since he’d finished the touch-ups on the Bently that I asked him to do, I didn’t see any reason not to let him. It’s not like I knew you’d be coming to pick him up after school and escort him home, carrying his book-bag for him.”

Steve’s hands curled into fists in the pockets of his khakis, and he took a deep, slow breath. Betas were supposed to have calming effects on both Alphas and Omegas, and were usually inclined, genetically, to be level-headed and non-confrontational. You’d think, what with how Bucky was, and how he, himself was, he would stop placing so much stock in what designations were ‘supposed’ to be.

Tony Stark drove him up the wall; he was always looking at Steve like he was a frog in a jar that he wanted to dissect, poking and prodding to see what reactions he’d get from the smaller man, and acting like he was the smartest person in the room. And the most infuriating thing? He usually was.

But, Steve admitted as he forced himself to relax, Stark had done a lot for Bucky. Got him a job at his little pet project garage, where he played when he wasn’t needed at Stark Industries, and even built him the beautiful arm he wears when he lost his own in a bike crash. Pro bono. He was good people, just…not Steve’s kind of people. But that was okay, too. He was Bucky’s people, so Steve would play nice.

So Steve just smiled and nodded. “Thanks for letting me know, Stark. I’ll see you around.” He turned to leave.

“Wait, that’s it?” the mild offense in Tony’s voice made Steve smile wider. “You’re not gonna try to go all Alpha on me? Shake me down for more info? Huff and puff and blow me down?”

Steve kept walking, but turned on a heel so he could walk backwards and look at Stark, hands still in his pockets. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “I got more important things to do than participate in your social experiments. Maybe next time I’ll try my Voice on you, if you ask nicely.” He turned back around and chuckled at Stark’s confused spluttering. Maybe they’d get along someday. But today, Steve just wanted to be with Bucky.

**

Steve was a little bummed that he wasn’t able to pick Bucky up from work. He liked surprising him like that, seeing the smile break across his face like sunlight. Plus, Steve admitted to himself, it was always a pleasure to watch Bucky work. Tight T-shirts and his jumpsuit tied around his waist, muscles rippling as he bent over the engine of a car. Or seeing his tongue poke out the corner of his lips as he concentrated on getting to dials and nobs of a classic console just right. Or during his break, joking and jostling with his coworkers, his tied back hair escaping in wisps to float around his face and stick to his sweaty neck.

Oh, yeah. The pleasure was all Steve’s when he got lucky enough to see those things.

A delicate cough brought him back to the present…where he was pouring out aroused Alpha pheromones in the middle of the sidewalk. Blush burning from the top of his head to his belly, he cleared his throat and hurried onward, pulling out his phone and thumbing open the messenger app.

 **Steve:** _Hey, where are you? I went to pick you up from work and you’d already left._

He wandered for a few more blocks without a destination before his phone buzzed with a response.

 **Bucky-babe:** _Wasn’t feeling well, so I went home._

Steve frowned at the screen until someone jostled his shoulder, and he realized he’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk again. Once again walking, but turning his direction to the Omega’s apartment, he typed.

 **Steve:** _Everything okay? Need me to get you anything? Are you sick?_

 **Bucky-babe:** _I’m okay now. I think Dum-Dum was in pre-rut, and it was making me queasy._

Steve tried not to growl aloud at the thought of another Alpha near Bucky, going into rut. Dum-Dum was a good man: never treated Bucky or Steve as anything more or less than what they were, and was fully supportive of their relationship. All of their friends were, because they surrounded themselves with awesome and amazing people, and Steve refused to be a jealous knothead when it came to Bucky and the other Alphas in his life.

But an Omega getting sick from the smell of pre-rut? Usually it was a siren’s call, just like pre-heat was to Alphas; an indicator of a virile, fertile, and compatible mate within the vicinity. But his instincts were solely focused on the fact that his Omega had said he wasn’t feeling well. He was driven to provide, protect, do everything he could to make it better.

 **Steve:** _Do you want me to come over? I can grab food, and we can watch a movie or something._

 **Bucky-babe:** _Yes, Alpha. ;)_

Even through text, those words always hit Steve like a lightning bolt, making his instincts rumble happily and his heart fill near to bursting. The Omega had had that affect on him since the very beginning, several months ago now. Ever since he caught that delicious scent of baking bread, cinnamon, and all things warm and comforting.

Omega.

 _Mate_.

_**Mine.** _

Those passion-fueled days were some of the best of Steve’s life, made even better when he learned that he was Bucky’s first. And his only, if the Alpha had anything to say about it.

And the months that had followed…Steve couldn’t help but smile as he thought about everything they’d gone through in such a relatively short amount of time: a multitude of dates, both successful and botched, the meeting of the friend and coworker groups—Bucky and Sam got on like a house on fire, but Steve and Natasha were still tentative at best. It was an Alpha thing.--, and finally, the meeting of the families.

Sarah Rogers had adored Bucky on sight, welcomed him warmly and openly, and the Omega claimed that he always gained five pounds whenever they went to visit her, since she did nothing but feed him baked goods and sent him home with towers of containers filled with soups, stews, and various other culinary delights. Ma had always shown love through food, Steve had told him. Bucky had started crying. Sarah had given him another cookie and kiss on the forehead.

The Barnes clan was located in rural Indiana, but through Skype, all things are possible. Steve got the impression that Bucky’s parents were just thrilled that he found someone that accepted their son just the way he is. And Bucky’s three sisters, all much younger than him, had peppered him with question after question; some innocuous, like what he did for a living, others a bit more pointed and a touch thoughtless, like why he was so small if he was supposed to be an Alpha. Steve answered each as honestly as possible, and they disconnected the chat feeling a bit harried, but that it had gone pretty well.

So much done, so little time, he thought idly as he stepped into their favorite deli and bought enough food to feed an army. Both Bucky and he ate like it was their last meal on earth, and no one, not even each other, could figure out where it all went: Steve stayed stick-thin and lanky, and Bucky stayed mouth-wateringly muscular and beautiful. The Alpha wanted to eat him alive.

But, surprisingly, sex had not reoccurred in all the months they’d been together. Sure, they did other stuff—groping, fondling, frottage, hand and blowjobs, mutual masturbation sessions that left them both heaving for breath and trembling in each other’s arms—but sex? Bucky never asked, and Steve never pushed. He was an Alpha, not an asshole, thank you very much. Not even for Bucky's heats; after that first time, Steve refused to pressure Bucky in any way, and had absolutely no problem simply being there for him; holding him, scenting him, and even giving a helping hand with the toys when Bucky got too strung out or tired. It was odd, when you looked at it from the outside, but then again, so did they, and who the fuck cared what anyone but them thought, anyways?

**

In no time at all, Steve found himself in front of Bucky’s apartment, breathing in deep to catch the teasing scent of the Omega trickling out from around the door. His arms laden with bags, he turned around and thumped the heel of his shoe against the wood, listening to the shuffling of another body on the other side. Another beautiful, stunning, delicious, sexy as hell body that revealed itself as the door opened and—

A snarl ripped itself out of Steve’s chest without provocation, making the Omega in front of him flinch harshly. The scent of pre-rut mixing with Bucky’s own scent was making Steve’s instincts bay for blood. How dare another Alpha touch what was his?! How fucking dare someone lay even a finger on his Omega?! He’d rip their throat out. Tear their intestines through their navels. Break every bone in their body and—

Soft whimpering and the smell of a distressed Omega—his Omega—pulled Steve from his murderous thoughts and back to where he was: standing in front of Bucky’s apartment, snarling and roaring at the man he cared for as he cowered and whimpered and bared his throat, looking like he was gonna shake apart any second.

“Oh, my god,” Steve choked out, nearly strangling on his shame, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—th-the smell—the pre-rut, I mean. It’s…it’s on you and you sm-smell like anoth-another Alph…no, that doesn’t matter.” He breathed shallowly through his mouth and stepped forward slowly, making sure Bucky knew he was coming closer. “I’m so very sorry, darlin’. That was uncalled for and my ma would whoop my ass if she knew what I just did. I have no excuses, and I’ll do whatever I have to to make this right with you.”

Bucky was still trembling but he stopped whimpering and he was looking at Steve with trepidation, and a little bit of fear. Fuck, it broke Steve’s heart to see the Omega like this. Bucky never backed down from anyone, not like this. Being built like a brick shithouse with a metal arm was a decent deterrent to most trouble, but there were a few assholes out there that thought they could over-power the Omega with designation alone. They learned the truth quickly enough. And to see his powerful, brilliant, confident boyfriend reduced to this, because of _him_? He wanted to throw up.

Instead he stepped closer, baring his own throat and a low, mournful sound crawling between his lips. He made himself as small as he could without actually crawling on the floor, but that was his next course of action of Bucky didn’t do something.

“Forgive me, Omega,” he rumbled, holding out the food as a peace offering. “Please, Bucky. I’m so sorry.”

For a long moment, Bucky stared at him, and he was getting ready to drop to his knees and grovel properly, when a metal hand came forward and plucked the bags from his fingers. The Omega turned and quickly made his way back into his apartment. He didn’t invite Steve in, but he didn’t close the door in his face either, so the Alpha gingerly stepped inside, holding his breath, and shut the door behind himself.

**

The sound of the shower soon trickled through the apartment, and Steve felt like the lowest of scumbags as he perched on the very edge of Bucky’s couch. There was still the faintest whiff of pre-rut in the air, making the back of his neck tense and his shoulders rise towards his ears, but he forced himself to not react any more than he already had.

He never felt more ashamed of himself, making Bucky flinch and look at him like that. Like he was afraid of Steve. _Afraid._ It made Steve want to crawl and expose his belly to the Omega, move heaven and earth and tear down the stars themselves to insure that Bucky forgave him and would never have to look like that again.

Soon enough, the shower cut off and a freshly washed Bucky, wearing a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants and smelling miserable, padded back out to the kitchen, sparing the briefest of glances for Steve as he passed by. The Alpha bit back a distressed whine. Bucky only covered his arm when he was feeling especially vulnerable, needing to shield all of his weaknesses and flaws, as he saw them. He’d fucked up even more than he thought.

Pushing to his feet, Steve made his way to the kitchen doorway, stopping just outside of the frame, and watching the Omega putter around, plating up the food and pulling this and that out of the cupboard and fridge. He was struck by the similarities of now compared to their first meeting; Bucky avoiding his eyes, Steve trying not to force his way into the Omega’s space, even though that the only place he wanted to be, the small space of the kitchen slowly filling with their combined scents. Finally, the Alpha couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Bucky,” he said softly, eyes flinching as Bucky’s shoulders hunched a little higher at his voice, “can I come in?”

He was fully prepared to leave without protest if the Omega couldn’t stand him in his den right now. He was resigned to being expelled from one of the few spaces that felt safe and homey for who knew how long. But when Bucky merely set a fully prepared plate of food to the side on the counter and began eating his own food, all without looking at the Alpha once, something in Steve broke a little bit.

The whimper that crackled out of his throat finally had Bucky’s eyes turning to look at him, but even then he didn’t meet Steve’s eyes, locking his gaze on the Alpha’s chin. Steve took a tentative step forward, and then another, pained noises slipping through his nose as every motion made Bucky hunch smaller and smaller against the counter. But the Omega didn’t flee, or demand that Steve leave, so he continued towards the other man, approaching him like one would a cornered animal.

It took several long breaths for them to finally be within reach of each other, and Steve wanted to cry from the scent of misery and hurt pouring off of the larger man, who was trying to be so much smaller than he was. His instincts clawed at him, demanding that he hunt down whatever caused his mate so much pain and make it hurt just as much, to shield and shelter the Omega until he smelled warm and happy again.

The only thing he could do, though, was quash his own imperatives and bare the pale expanse of his own neck to the other male, deferring and subjecting himself to the Omega. The sharp intake of breath told him that Bucky had seen, and understood. “Please, Omega,” he said, eyes respectfully lowered. An Alpha never begged, never submitted, never admitted weakness. But Steve would kneel before God and the Devil and everyone on earth to make Bucky smile.

It was several nerve-wracking minutes before Steve felt the first brush of icy metal fingers along the taut tendons of his throat, and he strangled the need to protect the vulnerable flesh. He forced himself to stay still as the digits traced from his ear to his shoulder and back again. He refused to feel hurt at the fact that Bucky used his artificial limb instead of his flesh hand, thus denying Steve the mark of his scent. He stayed still and complacent until those fingers pulled away.

Then Bucky spoke for the first time since Steve had snarled at him.

“Eat your food,” he whispered, voice rasping and thin as he ducked back towards his own plate.

The Alpha relaxed his neck and turned to the counter, picking up his fork. “Yes, Omega,” he said, just as softly. Bucky gave no indication that he’d heard. 

The meal passed in silence that balanced on the edge of uncomfortable, but an agreement of sorts had been reached, and the food disappeared quickly. Steve gathered his dishes, but waited until Bucky nodded his assent before collecting the plate and utensils in front of the Omega and carrying the small stack to the sink. He heard Bucky shuffling around behind him as he washed the dishes and set them aside; pushing in the stools they’d sat in, getting himself a drink from the fridge, and finally stepping out into the living room. Steve dried and put away the dishes before he followed, stopping at the entry and awaiting permission to approach. Maybe he was taking the deference a bit too far, but better safe than sorry.

Steve didn’t sit next to Bucky on the couch, as much as he wanted to, but instead folded himself to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the Omega, staying just within reach, just in case. He turned his face up to look at the other man, watching those stormy eyes study his face.

“Why?” Bucky demanded, after a long silence.

Steve didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “My instincts took over when I smelled Dum-Dum’s pre-rut mixed with your scent,” he said plainly. “The smell of another Alpha so close to rut on you made me see red and perceive a threat that wasn’t there.”

“Threat?”

Steve looked away, face heating, “A challenge for you as a mate. An encroachment on the one that my Alpha instincts have chosen as mine.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and leaned back fully, crossing his arms. “Mighty presumptuous of your instincts, don’t you think, _Alpha_?”

Steve flinched at the jab. “You know as well as I do that instincts aren’t something that can be reasoned with, Buck. I stopped it as soon as I could, and I’ve been apologizing ever since. What more do you want me to do?”

The fact that Bucky seemed to actually be mulling the question over made Steve’s shoulders tighten. They both knew that the Alpha would do pretty much anything the Omega asked at this point. His biology demanded it. It all fell on Bucky how severe he wanted to be with the smaller man. They stared at each other for a long moment before Bucky sighed and relaxed, flashing a crooked smile that was only a little bit strained.

“God, you look pathetic,” he uncrossed his arms and patted the couch beside him. “Get up here, ya punk.”

Steve almost collapsed in relief, but managed to clamber onto the cushions and throw a soft punch at the Omega’s arm, making the metal clang softly. “As if you weren’t enjoying seeing me grovel, ya jerk.”

Bucky chuckled and ducked his head, letting his hair shield his face, “Maybe a little bit, but my instincts aren’t deniable either. Seeing you distressed makes me want to make it better.”

Steve felt his heart stutter at those words and he opened his arms. “Can I cuddle you, Buck? Please?”

The Omega didn’t say anything, but he folded his legs up onto the cushions and flopped over to practically squish the blond into the far arm of the couch, making the breath _woosh_ from his lungs.

“God, you’re a brat,” the Alpha wheezed out a laugh, but he wrapped his arms around muscular shoulders and started stroking up and down Bucky’s back as far as he could reach. Soon they were both relaxed and happy again, and the incident was pushed away. If there was more scent marking and non-vocal communication to ease frazzled instincts, it was nobody’s business but theirs.

The hours were whiled away in a comforting tide of quiet voices and gentle touches. Neither left the other’s space unless necessary, and the shadows soon grew long across the walls and the lights of the city glinted like stars through the windows. A question was asked, assent was given, and moon rise saw them both curled up in the Omega’s bed, wrapped around each other so completely that beginnings and ends were irrelevant.

**

The sunlight stabbing through his eyelids wasn’t exactly the wake-up Bucky had been hoping for, but the feeling of Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding him close helped make up for the annoyance. Nuzzling his cheek against the pale chest, he closed his eyes again and just listened to the slightly irregular heartbeat and soft rasp of sleeping breaths. The issues of yesterday seemed so far away now, even if there was still a slight tickle at the base of his brain, reminding him to make sure that his Alpha was relaxed and happy so such a thing never happened again. Irritating, really, to feel the need to apologize and repent for something that wasn’t his fault in the slightest, just because he was genetically inclined to be more subservient.

Sighing softly, he carefully rolled out of bed, making Steve flop over and start snoring, and stumbled his way through his bathroom routine before finding himself in the kitchen, brewing coffee and thinking idly about breakfast. Scratching his bare stomach, he flirted with the idea of making a full English breakfast, but easily tossed the idea aside and merely made his lazy self a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Munching sleepily, he ran through his schedule for the day. He knew he’d have to put some time in at the garage, since he left early yesterday. Hopefully it’d be aired out by now, and Dum-Dum would be at home for the week and hadn’t triggered rut in any of the other Alphas while he was there yesterday. There was too much work to be done for half the team to be out on rut leave.

He shrugged and shelved that thought for another time. Right now, he was going to finish his cereal and coffee, then crawl back into bed with Steve for a little bit longer.

It was gonna be a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve was not having a good day.

Don’t get him wrong, it had started out amazing; waking up snuggled against his boyfriend, his nose buried in long dark locks and taking in breath after breath of his amazing cinnamon-caramel-everything warm scent, getting ready for the day together; sharing a pot of coffee and trading kisses every time they passed each other during their routines. Watching Bucky—his beautiful, amazing, deliciously Omega boyfriend Bucky Barnes—turn from soft and sweet and all Steve’s, into that confident, strong, stoic individual that can break your neck as easily as shake your hand...oh, yeah. Steve had a _great_ morning. But from then on…

The Alpha honestly had no idea what was wrong. Nothing had truly happened to cause this irritability and general annoyance with the world at large. As soon as he’d left Bucky’s apartment, he’d found himself wound tighter and tighter with no real reason why.

It wasn’t until much later, after a disastrous commute, a near miss on a crosswalk, and the drying out of one of his favorite paint sets by a forgetful, yet contrite student, causing him to snarl and snap and very nearly send the poor Beta into tearful hysterics that he figured it out.

He was in pre-rut.

Yesterday’s events must have tripped him into an early cycle.

God _damn_ it.

He immediately apologized to the students, gave them all passing grades for the day, alerted the head office that he’d be talking his leave for the next week, sorry for the short notice, and started making his agonizing way home. He did his damnedest to keep his head down and aggression in check, but everything about today seemed perfectly designed to turn him into the most stereotypical knot-head.

He knew that everyone and their mother on the subway could smell the pre-rut pouring off of him, and most kept their distance accordingly. He spared an apologetic glance to any Omega that caught his eye; the scent of rut was supposed to be as alluring to them as heat was to an Alpha, but many Omegas disliked the effect it had on their instincts, the vulnerability and loss of control making them uncomfortable.

Alphas, on the other hand, found the scent unpleasant and unwelcome, and took it as a challenge. There were several in the subway car that made their disgust and disdain loudly known, shooting Steve with looks that ranged from annoyance to outright aggression. Almost all of them dismissed him out of hand, though. The took one look at his lanky frame and delicate features, and suddenly there was no longer a threat to their masculinity, only an annoying smell coming from an annoying person.

Steve wanted to make them eat their own eyeballs.

But he just sat as still as a statue, ramrod straight and never averting his gaze when any of the other Alphas looked his way time and again. He could feel the ice settling in his bones, crystallizing his instincts into something precise and lethal. The Alphas could sense it as well, looking at him less and less until they all decided simultaneously to ignore him altogether. As did everyone else in the car. Survival instinct overruled posturing, every time.

The multitude of doctors that he had visited in his lifetime had always figured that his rut had adapted to match his stature and physical abilities. He lacked the constitution to swell outward with aggression and posturing and the sheer physicality that Alpha’s usually display to draw in potential mates. So he turned inward; cunning over strength, less likely to explode in temper, but just as willing to remove threats and obstacles with sheer icy presence. His favorite physician had once called it his ‘Alpha Paradox’. All at once he smelt and felt like the most dangerous presence in any given space, but he looked like the most delicate of Omegas. Unless you looked in his eyes. Then it was no longer a paradox, but a certainty.

“Christ, reign it in, won’t you, kid?” another Alpha snapped at him from across the car, a man who had boarded at the last stop. “You fuckin’ reek.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just tilted his head at a considering angle, like he was trying to figure out the best angle to rip out their throat. His scent sharpened, but his expression didn’t change at all, and he watched as the burlier man started to sweat and fidget, eyes darting around, seeking support. No one else met his gaze, and he shuffled quickly to the next car. Steve straightened his head and kept staring ahead.

The remainder of his commute was blessedly quick and he remained unmolested. Anyone in his path cleared the way without really understanding why they were stepping aside for a surly Omega-looking man, but Steve didn’t waste any energy on their confusion.

There was a slight hiccup as his haze cleared enough for him to realize that he’d made his way to Bucky’s apartment instead of his own. There was nothing he wanted more than to fill the space with his scent and presence while he waited for his sweet little Omega to come home, but they hadn’t had that conversation yet. And with the events of yesterday still fresh...

Growling continuously in the back of his throat and grinding his teeth so hard his jaw creaked, Steve stalked back to the underground so he could travel the two stops to his own apartment, that was woefully lacking the welcoming scent of compatible Omega.

**

Bucky’s phone buzzed in his pocket, felt but not heard over the blaring metal music that filled the garage. He ignored it long enough to finish tightening the bolts on the frame of the Thunderbird that he was working on and swipe at the hair tickling his temples. Wiping his hands as clean as possible with the rag he tugged from where it was tucked in his waistband.

“Oi, Gabe! Turn that shit down!” he bellowed as he dug his phone out, tuning out the abuse the boys threw his way as he typed in his password and saw a text from Steve. The smile that was starting to form slipped when he read the message:

 **Stevie:** _Might not be able to see you for a few days. Something came up._

**Bucky:** _ What’s goin’ on, babe? Everything okay? _

**Stevie:** _ Yeah, just got caught in something unexpected. Nothing major, promise. _

Bucky didn’t respond, but ducked out into the back alley, shutting out most of the music. He poked his screen a few times, then brought the ringing phone to his ear.

“Babe, I’m fine,” Steve said immediately when he picked up.

The Omega raised an eyebrow and leaned against the brick wall behind him. “Hello to you, too, Steve.  I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

Steve heaved a deep, almost irritated sigh in Bucky’s ear. “Hey, Bucky. Sorry. Everything okay at the garage?” 

“Yeah, Dum-Dum’s on leave for the next week, and Morita and Monty came in early to air the place out really well for me, Dernier, and Junior. Tony’s been pacing the place regularly as well, trying to spread the Beta-chill, as he calls it.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, babe? You don’t really sound like yourself.” And he didn’t. Something in his voice kept prickling at his instincts, making the back of his neck itch and his lower back clench.

“Yeah. Just...annoyed, I guess,” the Alpha sighed again. “'Cause of this thing that came up. But I’ll deal with it. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Bucky snorted loudly, making Steve chuckle. “You know I’m going to worry about you, punk,” he said softly. “ Tell you what; how about I pick up dinner after work and we’ll have  that movie night we missed out on last night.  You’re place?”

“I don’t think that would be--”

“James! Get your ass back in here! We need your arm!”

Bucky tucked his phone against his chest and bellowed back, “I’m comin, I’m comin’! Untwist your panties!” He pressed the phone back to his ear, talking quickly as he tugged the heavy backdoor open again, “I’ll see you tonight, okay? We’ll do pizza or something. Talk to you later, babe!”

“Bucky, wait--!”

He thumbed his phone off and tucked in back in his pocket,  slipping past the heavy portal . “Alright, weaklings,” he smirked as he meandered back to the Thunderbird, “what can my superior strength and superiority do for you?”

“Eat my entire ass, James,” groused Tony from halfway under the car frame. “I built you that arm, and I can take it back, no problem.”

Bucky just laughed and threw himself back into his work, the scent of happy Omega filling the garage. 

It was a good day.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna get good soon, I promise. Feeling a touch under the weather, so updates on all my stories might lag a bit. Sorry in advance.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve growled and clenched his hand until his phone creaked in warning. There was nothing he wanted more than to have Bucky here with him during his rut, but a lot of Omegas found rut to be incredibly overwhelming if their cycles weren’t synced. Alpha’s natural predisposition to control and dominate was ramped up to ridiculous levels, and even Omega service companions had a tough time, despite the plethora of safety precautions that were in place for them.

And Steve was more dangerous than most; he was unpredictable. Any physician, companion, or containment specialist worth their salt could easily tell which way an in-rut Alpha was going to jump within moments of meeting them. Their safety, and the safety of the Alpha, depended on it, nine times out of ten.

Steve...Steve never jumped. He never lashed out, never postured, never tried to get into the space of another to make them submit with aggression, strength, or pheromones. In fact, he’d been written off more than once as a false alarm when he checked himself into an Isolation Clinic. Now he was pretty sure his picture was posted at the front desk of at least three in the general area of his last apartment, with a warning: Isolate Immediately.

In-rut, Steve wasn’t a pursuit predator like others. He didn’t revel in the chase, or the capture, or the over-powering of another.

No.

Steve was an ambush predator. A Trojan Horse. He watched. He waited. He evaluated. He held himself with an iron will, but even iron can bend under immense heat and pressure. He doesn’t have the strength to demand submission. So he asks, instead. He doesn’t have muscles, but he has words, and presence, and charisma. And he wields them with a brutal efficiency. When he allows himself to, anyways.

Solo ruts are extremely painful for Alphas, even more so than heats for Omegas. Partially because they’re not as frequent, partially because prolonged knots without release can actually be permanently damaging. Scientifically, it’s because there’s a special bacterial component in Omega’s secretions that is absorbed through the skin, which triggers a whole landslide of biological imperatives in an Alpha, promoting virility, fertility, stamina, compatibility, etc., etc. One of the main things is a relaxing of the muscles and parts of the brain in charge of ejaculation, making orgasms quicker, easier, and more frequent. Without the bacteria present, things are much more difficult for the Alpha, a building of pressure that is slow to release and quick to build back up.

Pharmaceutical companies, as well as companies in the private sector, like Stark Industries, have developed synthetic slick that works for most Alphas, and those that the broad spectrum slick didn’t help, could obtain slick created specifically for them, using their own genetic material, like saliva or ejaculate, and engineered for maximum compatibility.

Steve was on the short list for either service companions or personalized slick, because his compromised constitution made it even more dangerous for him to try and weather his ruts alone. The first time he came into one, he was placed under observation, due to his health. They tried to keep in the least invasive that they could, because of the territoriality of in-rut Alphas, but it was only a day or so in when his heart couldn’t keep up with the imperatives his instincts kept forcing on him, and they’d sent in a service Omega.

Steve had met the Omega several days prior, when the first signs of his oncoming rut were presenting. He was a nice man; gentle disposition that covered a spine of pure steel, and his scent wasn’t offending in any way. Both he and Steve consented to the intervention, should it become necessary.

He came into Steve’s space, smelling of willing Omega, fully expecting to be cornered and scented and scruffed and more or less acceptably abused. He kept his throat exposed, and made all the proper _come hither_ motions and vocalizations to draw in an Alpha. And Steve was drawn in.

He tried everything that an Alpha is supposed to do to get an Omega to accept his rut. He postured. He growled. He situated himself in his partner’s space and filled it with his scent. Bared his teeth and tried to swell and prove that he was strong and powerful and compatible.

It was horrible.

The Omega, while willing, wasn’t fully able to reconcile the scent of Alpha and the stature of the man in front of him. The pull of their instincts was powerful enough that Steve’s companion couldn’t accept him as the dominant force he was trying so hard to be. There was a threat of aggression and violence that never left, even as they were able to find a space where Steve was able to knot his companion, and afterwards they were both clear headed enough to understand that to continue would be dangerous, for both of them. Steve was given a supply of synthetic slick, and left alone with his feelings of inadequacy, shame, and disgust.

It wasn’t until several cycles later that Steve felt the change in his demeanor when his rut started. After his first disastrous cycle, he did everything he could to keep from repeating that humiliation. He read everything he could get his hands on about how Alphas acted and reacted while in rut, and did the opposite. He quashed so many of his mannerisms; he didn’t posture, he didn’t growl, he curbed every single aggressive impulse he could. He was small, so he tried to stay small. He locked himself down with his synthetic slick and refused every offer of a service Omega.

And, eventually, he stopped feeling the overwhelming need to do all the stereotypical Alpha things. His ruts always started normally; angry and irritable, temper flaring at the drop of a hat. But as it went on, the fire always banked itself to a simmer, almost cool. He baffled his doctors when he showed up for Isolation in perfect control of his faculties, answering their questions and talking like normal. He was far from normal, of course. He had trained himself to look introspectively with the eyes of a service companion. He saw all the things that an Alpha would do, and what an Omega would do in response, and worked around both expectations to make a place for himself, as a dichotomy of both. A chimera of sorts.

The first time he requested a service companion, they both agreed to observation, both because of what happened last time, and to allow physicians to attempt to categorize him and his rut. When the young man had entered Steve’s space, smelling welcoming and willing, Steve hadn’t pounced. He didn’t snarl or flex or any such thing. He still sweated, and strained, and looked at the Omega with hungry eyes, but he remained fully cognizant and coherent, chatting with the man about this and that, making sure that he understood that neither of them would fully know what was going to happen.

And as he talked, he moved. Slowly, leisurely, making sure to telegraph everything he did as he circled the Omega, getting closer and closer while keeping his voice level and calm. Filling the space with his scent without crowding close. Acting like a service companion with a volatile Alpha. Flipping the script.

The confusion of the companion was palpable, but it was a malleable confusion, a muddling of signals that gave Steve the openings and leverage he needed to draw the Omega in to a gentle submission that satisfied the needs of both of them. Steve's rut passed without incident.

Afterwards, the Omega admitted that it was the safest he’d ever felt during a rut, although it wasn’t something he would care to repeat. The polarity of scent and visuals was just too jarring for him, as was Steve’s mannerisms. He said that he was used to a certain warmth in Alphas, be it a heavy heat or an inviting simmer. Steve was chilled, he confessed; a coldness in his actions and words that added to the confusion. He never felt threatened, but not fully welcomed, either. Having a knack for the poetical, he phrased it as being hypnotized by the glint of sunlight on ice, instead of being soothed by the dazzle of flames. Nothing about Steve’s rut had been expected or normal, and the Omega said once the instinctual haze had cleared, it unsettled him greatly.

So Steve cloistered himself away every cycle, resigning himself to using his personalized slick and maybe a sheath or two. He’d finally been able to afford an apartment that was air tight and had pheromone filters in every unit, so he didn’t have to go to sterile smelling Isolation Clinics any more, but it was still lonely as the years passed.

And then he found Bucky.

Beautiful, delicious Bucky, whose scent made his personalized synthetic slick smell like chemicals and plastic.

Who tripped up Steve’s rut three months early by smelling like another Alpha.

Who was going to be coming here, to Steve’s den, in just a few hours, because Steve lacked the strength to tell him to stay away.

Bucky.

Steve was going to eat him alive.

And Steve, who was more concerned about how not worried that thought made him than the thought itself, settled himself by the window and watched the passing of the world and waited, an errant breeze cooling the sweat across his nose. He was trembling, aching, eager to mount and bite and claim. But he didn't move.

He just waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the good stuff, y'all. Almost there. Are you excited? I am. God, this stuff is so fun to write.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was well on it’s way to setting by the time Bucky bustled out of his apartment, freshly showered and phone pressed to his ear to order some burgers for pick-up on his way to Steve’s place. He kept a litany of curses cycling through his brain as he shoved his way as politely as possible through the turnstiles and onto his train seconds before it pulled away. He hadn’t meant to be this late, but Dernier, the idiot, had welded his head into the frame of a Dodge Charger, and the resulting ridicule and rescue had taken a lot longer than it should have.

The itch at the back of his neck that he felt during his call with Steve had never abated, had actually intensified, and he wanted to crawl out of his skin. Every person who brushed against him as he rushed home, bolted for his train, and while he attempted to stay out of the way in the corner of the subway car felt like sandpaper and skittering ants all at once. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but something inside was telling him that Steve, his Alpha, was the only thing that would make the feeling go away.

He knew people were staring as he more or less fled the subway car like the hordes of hell were at his heels, but he didn’t care. It felt like he was struggling to breathe, and his lungs only expanded fully once he’d clamored up the steps and stumbled into the open air. The itchiness wasn’t alleviated, though, and he struggled to keep from scratching all over as he picked up and paid for the food he’d ordered. The scent of the grease and meat simultaneously sent his mouth watering and stomach roiling. He didn’t like how he was feeling, not at all, and he even contemplated going back home, in case it was a contagious bug or something. But he _needed_ to see Steve. Needed to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t comprehend not doing that, so he squared his shouldered and marched onward to Steve’s apartment.

It didn’t take him long to find himself outside Steve’s door, shifting all the food bags to his metal hand so he could fish out his copy of the apartment key (that was attached to a green crystal apple keychain), and slide it into the lock. He could have knocked, but Steve had said something had come up, and he didn’t want to risk interrupting whatever it was, so he tried to be as stealthy as possible as he slipped through the door, nudged it closed behind him, and tiptoed to the kitchen to relieve himself of his delicious burdens. He paused for a moment when the scent of Steve finally cut through the haze of mustard, salt, and pickles; it smelled…

Oh, shit.

His fingers fumbled as he stopped pulling cartons and containers out of the bags, but he squashed the little voice in the back of his mind that suddenly started screaming at him to ‘ _run, bitch, run!_ ’, and instead started taking slow, methodical breaths through his mouth. He took out his phone and shot off a quick text to Tony, telling him that there was a real chance that he wouldn’t be able to make it in for the next few days, although he wasn’t fully sure, and just to not be surprised if he wasn’t there in the morning. He then silenced the device, placed it on the counter, and turned towards the rest of the apartment’s living space.

It wasn’t unusual for most of the apartment to be dark; Steve spent a lot of time in his guest bedroom-turned-art studio, and often emerged to pitch-black where it had been bright mid-day seeming only minutes before. But as Bucky’s eyes adjusted to the gloom of the living room, just beyond the glow of the kitchen and front hall, he saw a still and silent shape leaning beside the open window. It didn’t seem to have shifted at all during Bucky’s entry, and that sent klaxons bellowing in the Omega’s brain. Steve always welcomed him at the door with a kiss and light scenting, just like he did when Steve visited him. That, with the way the Alpha’s scent had sharpened to almost too cold to breathe, and the ‘something’ that had come up…

The pieces were clicking together in Bucky’s brain, and he knew that he’d have a choice to make, very, very soon, but right now, he had to make sure that Steve was okay. He skirted the edge of the dividing counter and stepped fully into the shadows of the living room.

“Steve?”

\--

“I could smell you, you know,” the Alpha’s voice was so, so soft, but as he turned from the window and the light from the street lamp cut across his face, Bucky couldn’t help but shiver with something that wasn’t quite lust, and wasn’t quite fear. Steve looked...sharper. The shadows carved his face a little more harshly, made his blue eyes a little more cold. And the way he moved…

“All the way down at street level,” Steve continued as he glided towards the Omega, the shift of his shoulders and hips nearly hypnotic as he stepped closer and closer. He moved like an animal. He moved like a predator. And Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he felt so much like prey. “My senses have never been this sharp before, honestly,” he spoke as if it was a normal conversation, and not like he was easily corralling the Omega in the corner of the living room. “I could smell you, five stories below me, and all I could think was how absolutely sweet you were, coming all the way here to see me.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” his teeth flashed in something that was almost a comforting smile, “I wanted to leap out that window, pin you to the sidewalk, and mount you right there in the street for every schmuck in this city to see, but I knew…” he slid even closer and Bucky swallowed a whimper, “that all I had to do was wait, and you’d come right to me.”

“Steve--,” Bucky’s voice wobbled a bit, and he cleared his throat, “babe, you’re kind of scaring me.”

The Alpha released a sound that was almost sympathetic, but didn’t quite make it. “You know I never mean to do that, sweetheart, but full transparency is what this is all about. This is what my rut does to me. I figure the scent of Dum-Dum yesterday tripped me up early. And my ruts aren’t like any other Alpha’s. I know that means little to you, what with me being your first and only,” a grin like sparkling glass cut his features as he said that. “Maybe that’ll make it easier for you, maybe it won’t.”

He shrugged, and Bucky was once again hit with a wave of that cold, crisp scent that crackled as it filled his lungs. “All I know is that I want to do so very many things to you, Omega,” a rumble was creeping into his voice now that he was close enough to very nearly touch Bucky, eyes blue and clear and boring through the taller man’s skull, “and I know a thousand different ways to make you let me. I know all the right ways to touch you, all the right things to say, to get exactly what I want from you. And I want... _all_ of you. But you didn’t come here expecting this, so…” he suddenly took three large steps back, and Bucky blinked in surprise.

It was only then that he noticed how Steve’s hands were trembling, and how tight his shoulders were, and the sheen of sweat soaking his hairline. He was struck by just how much of himself Steve was keeping at bay, holding back, for the sake of not scaring Bucky any more than he had. He marveled anew at how very strong the Alpha was, how much mastery he had over himself and his baser desires. He almost reached out to comfort Steve, his instincts insisting he stop the hurt, make it better, but he froze when the Alpha spoke again.

“You have a choice now, Bucky,” the smaller man said, shifting his weight back and forth like a snake waiting to strike. “This is how I’m gonna be for the next three to five days. I’m not gonna be all that nice, and I’m going to push you in ways we haven’t fully talked about yet. I thought I had more time to tell you about this and I didn’t. That’s my fault, but I’m not feeling particularly sorry right now. I’m gonna get greedy and possessive, and feel the need to keep you pinned down and full of my knot and seed. I will want to own you, Omega.”

Steve’s voice was nearly all growl at this point, rolling out of his chest like a landslide as his head tilted and lowered and he looked at Bucky through his lashes with eyes that were now more black than blue. “If that doesn’t sound like something you want to be a part of, if it scares you, worries you, make you have doubts in any way, you need to leave. Now. Do _not_ run, do _not_ turn your back to me. Just very calmly, very _slowly_ , make your way to the door, slip out, and do not turn back, no matter what I say to you.”

Bucky stared at Steve, really stared. Took in the whole picture the Alpha made; the way his shirt clung to him in large, sweaty patches, the twitch in his fingertips, like he was fighting the urge to just reach out and grab what he wanted, the slow, measured way he was breathing--each inhale, each exhale, exactly the same--, the way his eyes, dark and hungry beneath his brow, didn’t stray even the slightest from the center of Bucky’s face.

The straining outline of his cock, trapped, hard and leaking, within his khakis long enough to have formed a dark wet stain near his right thigh. How he held himself like the cruelest of masters, just out of reach of everything he wanted and needed to make the pain stop. Telling Bucky he could leave, escape, wash his hands of this entire rut.

And Bucky knew he loved him.

Wholly.

Completely.

Utterly.

Hopelessly.

He would walk through fire for this man, this little powerhouse of an Alpha who made him feel like the soft, small, treasured Omega he dreamed about being.

Take on armies for him.

Kill.

Die.

He spared only a moment for the annoyance of having come to such a revelation at a time like this, then shoved it aside as he took a small shuffling step forward. Then another. And another. All while gulping down breath after breath of Steve’s scent, drowning in snow and sunlight and ink and apples.

The Alpha tensed with each step towards him, coiling tighter and tighter until Bucky stood not six inches away and Steve looked fit to shatter into a million pieces. Then Bucky folded himself to his knees, tossing his hair over his shoulder, baring his throat, placing his metal hand around Steve’s wrist and pulling his arm until a broad, long fingered hand, stained with graphite and paint, was nestled against the back of his neck. He looked up into a sharp, hungry face that was twisted in a look of shock and the most desperate hope that nearly broke Bucky’s heart, and smiled; a small and tremulous thing.

“Please, Alpha.”

\--

Steve stayed frozen, iron will and stone muscles, looking down at the man at his feet. The two hundred and fifty pound, six foot two, scruffy, imposing, brick shithouse of a man with an arm made entirely of metal that had decided--with everything Steve had told him, showed him, threatened him with--to fall to his knees, bare his throat, and give himself to the instinct driven creature that was now Steve Rogers. He watched as this mountain crumbled so sweetly, letting his eyes fall shut and a purr start to stutter out his chest as the Alpha slowly began to apply pressure to the back of his neck, his muscles creaking and groaning like rusted metal as he finally allowed himself to move, to accept.

He felt a smile that he knew was in no way kind slide across his mouth as he leaned forward and tilted Bucky’s face towards his own. He didn’t kiss him, the urge for far more base things burning away any desire for sweet affections, but he spared enough thought to nuzzle gently through scruff before clamping his teeth down bared flesh and tendon, drinking in Bucky’s cry like a shot of whiskey. He didn’t release as he straightened, pulling the other man to his feet with teeth at his throat and a hand now fisted in his hair.

“Mine,” the word rumbled through both of them, settling in blood and bone. A threat and a promise and everything in between. “My Omega.” Bucky whimpered his assent and Steve gave himself fully to the need clawing at his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn this took me forever.


	5. Chapter 5

The transition from living room to bedroom was a complete blur as Steve backed Bucky through the halls. He refused to relinquish his hold on Bucky’s hair, but he pulled his face back just enough to lock his gaze with the Omega’s, daring him to look away, to see what would happen if he tried. He whispered a stream of gentle commands, his breath warm on Bucky’s lips and chin as he told Bucky to undo both their belts and buttons, untuck their shirts, slip out of his shoes. Bucky could only whimper and obey.

Bucky’s scent was starting to fill the space as well, the Omega’s instincts being dragged in the slipstream of Steve’s rut, demanding that he be a good mate, prepared and eager to take his Alpha’s knot and seed. He felt slick start to trickle from his twitching hole, and he saw the moment Steve smelled it. The Alpha went deceptively soft, cooing against Bucky’s lips as his free hand slipped down the back of Bucky’s pants and boxers.

“There’s my sweet baby,” Steve praised between nips and licks into Bucky’s mouth as he grabbed a handful of Bucky’s ass and urged him forward to grind against his now open fly. “Getting all wet and ready for me to fuck you open and knot you tight.” His grip didn’t abate, and Bucky knows he’s gonna have bruises for weeks, but he doesn’t protest or resist as Steve tumbles them both onto the bed, almost methodical as he divests them of the trapping of polite society. Such things obviously had no place here. Not now, with the Alpha looming over him, blue eyes sharp and calculating even as his cock twitched and leaked against his stomach.

Bucky kept his throat bared as Steve’s hands traced almost absently across his skin, skating down his throat and skipping across his shivering abs. Whines were bubbling past his lips, but Steve just kept looking at him, blue locked on blue, as his fingernails scratched oh-so-deliberately down his inner thigh.

“I’ve never smelled anything as amazing as you smell right now,” he murmured, lips quirking as Bucky keened at the praise. “Not even during your heat. You smell so fucking good, darlin’,” he leaned in close and traced the tip of his nose up the column of Bucky’s throat until his lips brushed Bucky’s ear. “You smell like _mine._ ”

Bucky’s whole body seized, breath locked in his chest, as he felt Steve settle his teeth over that spot behind his ear. He knew Steve was his mate, was his perfect match in every way, and that it was only a matter of time before he bore the Alpha’s mark proudly. But he figured they’d at least talk about it first! He didn’t think it was something that belonged in the heat of the moment like this, but his instincts made it very difficult to go against an Alpha’s demands when rut was amping their pheromones to ridiculous levels. He forced his mouth open, but only a loud moan tumbled out as Steve started sucking on the thatch of skin. _Hard_.

“I’m not gonna bite you, baby,” Steve growled around his mouthful. “I want to. Trust me when I say I want to, so badly it _hurts_ , but I’m not an animal. I’m just going to fuck you like one.” And with one last suck and scrape of his teeth, he reared back to kneel between Bucky’s twitching thighs. “But we need to stretch this pretty little hole first, don’t we?” His voice leveled back out into something resembling a casual conversation as he traced the tips of his fingers down between Bucky’s cheeks to interrupt the steady trickle of slick flowing from the Omega’s twitching entrance. “Need this to be relaxed and open and so, so sloppy wet for me. Think you can help me get you all ready for my knot, sweetheart? Can you be that good for me?”

Bucky shuddered out a breath and nodded, his eyes locked on Steve’s, powerless to look away from the black holes within the rim of icy blue, looking at him like a cat toying with a mouse. Bucky was certainly feeling played with, in the best way.

“That’s a good boy,” Steve rumbled, smiling like a benevolent guardian. “Always the sweetest little thing for me. Best Omega in the world. Gimme your hands, baby.” Bucky unlocked his grip from the sheets, flesh fingers twitching as they struggled to move after being seized for so long, and allowed Steve to cradle his wrists in his wide palms and tuck his hands behind his knees, one body soft, one unyielding metal, both incredibly warm and slipping in the already accumulated sweat. “That’s perfect, baby,” Steve murmured, refusing to release Bucky’s gaze as he pushed upwards, folding Bucky’s body nearly in half with his thighs tucked against his chest, exposing the smooth and shiny flesh to the open air and light. “Hold, just like that. Keep yourself open and still for me. Can you stay still, gorgeous? Just like this, so I can give you a kiss?”

Bucky’s whine wheezed a little as breathing became a bit of a struggle, but he locked his elbows and spread his knees as Steve’s eyes finally let his go so they could dart between his exposed hole and his throat that Bucky was straining to reveal. He felt his hair sticking to the sweat and stubble on his cheek and the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t care less as he felt Steve’s broad hands palm his ass and spread him even wider, making his leaking hole feel the stretch.

He battled to keep his eyes open and his attention on Steve and what he was planning to do, but he became distracted by a single, gleaming drop of his slick that was making it’s way over his balls and succumbing to gravity down the length of his cock. He wanted to squirm as he felt it traverse the throbbing vein along the underside, tickling him in a gentle, almost unbearable way until it hung, innocent as a tear, from the head of his cock, almost directly over his bitten-red mouth. He was hypnotized by it, how it refracted the light and barely clung to him, seeming so pure, except in context.

“ _Look at me_.”

The tug of that voice was irresistible, but it still took Bucky a long second to tear his eyes away from that droplet and once again see the look of arrogant benevolence on Steve’s sharp face. “You finally seeing just how pretty you really are, darlin’?” he asked mildly, flexing his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass. “How sweet and delicious you are?” He leaned a little more into the small of Bucky’s back, rolling him tighter and higher as his voice dropped to a gruff whisper, “Do you wanna taste, baby?” His eye flicked to the trembling drop that was starting to pull away from Bucky’s cock on a gossamer thread, slick and pre-cum blending and weighing together in a distillation of pure Omega sex and need, teased from his body by the skilled hands of the perfect Alpha. Bucky could only nod.

“ _Open your mouth, Omega._ ”

Helpless to resist, Bucky parted his lips and slid his tongue just past his teeth. Silence fell heavy between their bodies, broken only by their harsh breaths as they watched the silver strand stretch down and down towards Bucky’s waiting mouth. They watched it shiver and swing as Bucky’s cock twitched and throbbed with his heartbeat.

They both moaned as it settled, soft as a kiss, on Bucky’s tongue; Steve’s deep and tormented, Bucky’s high and needy.

“That’s so good, darlin’,” Steve gritted out, tendons in his neck straining as he watched Bucky pull his tongue back and savor the taste. “My perfect, pretty baby. Did it feel good, tasting yourself for me? I bet it tasted amazing.”

Bucky licked his lips and nodded, “Yes, Alpha.” His voice crackled and he swallowed thickly, his tongue feeling cumbersome in his mouth.

“That’s right, Omega,” Steve snarled through a smile that was just a baring of teeth. “You always taste so fucking good. Sweeter than honey, and hittin’ like straight bourbon. Best thing in the world. And now it’s my turn to get some, yeah?” He started lowering his face to where he still had Bucky spread wide with his hands, eyes boring through Bucky’s. “Gonna let me give you a kiss now, baby? Gonna be even sweeter for me?”

Bucky nodded again and tried to rock his hips up, biting a whine off with every hitched breath. “Please, Alpha!”

“ _Don’t look away.”_

And he didn’t. Not even when he felt Steve’s lips press against his hole in a debauched facsimile of a kiss. Just a brush of lips, saying ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ or ‘welcome home’. A pressure that was almost sweet, almost pure, and completely seared into Bucky’s brain as he clenched his hands so tightly on the back of his knees that the plates of his metal fingers pinched the soft skin. Not that he felt it.

No.

Every nerve ending in his body was centered on the gentle rain of kisses that Steve was pressing to his slick-drenched hole, making the flesh shiver and clench, trying to kiss him back. Bucky could feel the rivulets of slick streaming down his tailbone to smear between his back and Steve’s chest where he was was pressed close and supporting some of Bucky’s weight. He could feel his heart beat in his neck as he strained to keep himself still and open while crumpled in half, lungs struggling to inflate fully. He felt his face burn and his eyes itch as he watched Steve open his mouth and press his tongue into his body.

And all he knew was pleasure.

\--

Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave Steve’s, but the Alpha knew he wasn’t really seeing anything any more. The fogginess that covered his gaze, like condensation on cold steel, assured Steve that the Omega was completely lost in sensation, similar to the first time they were together like this. Steve reveled in the fact that he could watch the ecstasy dance across Bucky’s face this time; drink in the sweetness of his lover’s surrender and submission to the feelings he was pulling out of him with his tongue, lips, and teeth.

His face was quickly covered in slick and sweat as he mouthed at Bucky’s hole, teasing the edges of the furled flesh with his tongue before dipping inside for a deeper taste, then pulling away to continue teasing. He rubbed his cheeks against every inch of taut flesh he could reach, saturating himself in Bucky’s dizzying scent, while also marking this most intimate of places with his own. He scraped lines of red with his teeth, then soothed the marks with kisses and licks. He drowned himself in the taste, scent, and sounds of his Omega, his head swimming with lust and rut, grinding his cock against Bucky’s back in search of some kind of friction.

When even the damp flesh of Bucky’s spine grated across his cock like sandpaper, Steve knew that he was running out of time. His rut was burrowing into his brain, marking everything that wasn’t his knot locked in a hot Omega hole as unsatisfactory and unacceptable. Fire clawed at the base of his spine, blistering and scorching with a heat that only slick could soothe. He was dying of thirst, and the taste of Bucky was like drinking from the ocean—the more he had, the more he needed. And he _needed._

Pulling back felt like he was flaying his own skin away, but he did. Just far enough to grab Bucky’s wrists and drag his hands up to where his had been resting before, making him pull apart his own cheeks, keep himself completely open to Steve.

“ _Don’t. Move._ ” the words punched their way past clenched teeth and straining tendons as Steve shuffled even closer, raising himself up fully on his knees so Bucky’s ass sat just below his sternum. He looked down at Bucky, taking in the redness, the sweat, the smears of pre-cum across his chest and chin, the swollen lips and bleary eyes with an arrogant and patronizing smirk. “Pretty Omega,” he growled, his rut running high with a heat that he hadn’t felt in years. It felt...incredible.

Steve kept smiling as he cupped a hand lightly over Bucky’s balls, feeling the Omega’s thundering pulse, and stroking all the way back to his tailbone, then back up, again and again, pressing his middle and ring finger heavily over Bucky’s hole with each pass. The reedy sounds that Bucky was making slid across the Alpha’s skin like boiling treacle: sweet and hot and leaving him high and buzzing.

His mate. His perfect mate, giving him everything he asked for, demanded, took, and still having more. His beloved Omega, gorgeous and strong and soft and delicious in scent and taste. Whining and leaking and baring his throat to Steve in the most beautiful picture of submission that he’d ever seen.

Fuck, he loved him.

The revelation flowed like cool water, hissing across his scalded nerves until steam clouded the manic need to dominate and claim. His thundering pulse slowly faded from his ears, and his straining muscles loosened with a shudder. He ceased growling and started murmuring, gently tugging Bucky’s fingers away from where they were carving divots into his slippery skin, straining to keep the hold that Steve told him to.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, stroking over the backs of Bucky’s hands, metal and flesh alike, easing his grip in increments. “My perfect baby, being so good for me. So proud of you, darlin’, doing everything I ask.” He shushed the Omega’s whimpers as he helped lower the larger male’s legs, digging into the trembling and strained muscles as he uncurled. “That’s it, gorgeous; just relax now. I’ve got you. Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. My pretty, perfect Omega.”

\--

Bucky gulped down deep breath after deep breath as he unfolded, thighs jerking and jumping as Steve situated them around his hips, digging his fingertips into the sore muscles and sweeping his palms from knee to waist. He heard Steve’s words as if from inside a tunnel, but it slowly became clearer the longer he breathed. For the longest time, he just sprawled and listened to the beautiful praise spilling from his Alpha’s mouth, letting to settle him back in his skin and bones. No one could send him sky-high like Steve could. Just a touch, a look, a word...and Bucky was wrapped in the softest cotton, suspended in the implacable waters of pleasure and submission.

As wonderful as it felt to be touched and praised, it didn’t take long for the Omega’s instincts to realize that something wasn’t right. His Alpha was still in rut. Deeply in rut. But he hadn’t knotted him yet. He hadn’t entered him in any way, in fact. That...was wrong. That was very wrong. Why hadn’t Steve fucked him yet? Why hadn’t he knotted, and filled him? What was making him hesitate? What had Bucky done to make him hesitate? The lingering cotton in his brain, and his instincts blaring at him tangled up and made his heartbeat start rabbiting again, his breath stuttering in confusion.

But when Steve made no motion to move things along, still stroking and cooing at him, the confusion shifted towards annoyance. Leave it to Steve to be self-sacrificing, even in the midst of his rut, Bucky thought with an internal eye-roll. Leaving himself hanging to coddle Bucky in ways that were sweet, but unnecessary. It was enough of a step outside of their genetic dispositions for Bucky to lock his thighs around Steve’s waist and roll them over.

The shock on Steve’s face made Bucky chuckle, even as the brush of his cock against his hole made him shudder. He watched as the sharpness came back to Steve’s eyes, his own eyelids fluttering as Steve casually raked his nails across the skin he’d been caressing not a moment before.

Steve made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. “Something on your mind, darlin’?” he asked, nearly all of the former consideration gone from his words, touch, and face. Bucky felt the cotton starting to coil around him again, but he tossed a smirk down to the Alpha, rocking his hips and preening internally at the shiver the motion elicited.

“Just doing what I can to help, Alpha,” he murmured sweetly, leaning over Steve to nuzzle at his cheek and throat. “You smell so good,” he husked, casually moving to Steve’s shoulders when he tensed and started growling at the pressure against his neck. Bucky rained kisses and playful nips as he shuffled his body downward, keeping his ministrations gentle and sweet so Steve didn’t feel challenged or dominated. He knew that Steve knew what he was doing, the feeling of indulgence rolling off the smaller male in waves, but Bucky just kept going.

“You taste amazing,” he said as he trailed his tongue across the gentle slopes of Steve’s stomach. “I love how this body feels against mine; made just for me, fitting just right. The way it holds me and protects me.” He grazed his teeth underneath Steve’s navel, making the muscles jump. “And this…” he shuddered out a breath as he settled himself between Steve’s legs, his palms pressed into the creases of hip and thigh, framing Steve’s cock—hard, leaking, and almost purple—while licking his lips, “this perfect cock. The only one I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he flashed a deceptively innocent look to Steve’s face, watching his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. “The only knot I’ve had in my body. Only mine. Right, Alpha?” He bat his eyelashes and leaned in for a soft kitten lick, stealing a single droplet from the tip, not unlike the one he’d tasted from his own body.

Steve was quickly beyond words. He could hear the creaking of his jaw muscles, unable to relax them even a fraction as he reached down to twine his fingers with the most deliberate gentleness into Bucky’s tangled hair, holding him still as he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around his own throbbing cock and began feeding it into the Omega’s eagerly waiting mouth.

The needy little sound that slid from Bucky’s throat bubbled out around Steve’s cock speared straight through the Alpha’s brain to sizzle at the back of his skull, throwing sparks and embers as it passed, and Steve quickly found himself engulfed in flames. The only thing that kept him from crumbling to ash was the naked admiration and devotion in Bucky’s teary eyes. The silken vice of Bucky’s throat quivered and spasmed with each noise the Omega tried to make, but never made it to the open air like that first one did, and Steve latched both hands in long dark hair, and started rolling his hips.

He growled through clenched teeth as Bucky’s eyes rolled back and he nearly went limp with the first few thrusts, the cloying scent of pleased Omega spiking through the already saturated air of the room. They both knew exactly how much Bucky could take, and how much Steve could give, and they easily found a rhythm that had them both purring.

They floated in the sensation for a while, neither looking away, even as Steve’s eyes began burning, and Bucky’s started leaking tears. But soon, frustration started tainting both their scents as the pleasure reached a point and couldn’t go any further, stalled out in the absence of instinctual necessities. When Steve started snarling with each thrust, his fingers yanking more than guiding, Bucky shifted, just enough to bring Steve’s focus back to him instead of the feelings.

Keeping his eyes on Steve’s, he settled his weight on his flesh forearm, and reached back with his metal hand, curling the digits to press against his soft hole. He moaned around Steve’s cock as he rolled small circles around the furl of flesh with his index and middle fingers, the metal quickly becoming slick-drenched and sliding easily across his skin. He screamed when those two fingers sunk into his body, smooth and effortless, the stretch delicious and almost as perfect as the look on Steve’s face.

Steve very nearly came while he watched Bucky stretch himself open with his own— _metal—_ fingers. He bit back a howl of pure Alpha frustration when it felt like his orgasm slammed into a wall, clawing at his abdomen, baying in confusion and distress at it’s inability to find completion. He felt his fingers slide from Bucky’s hair to curl around the back of the Omega’s neck, gripping hard despite the layer of sweat that lay there and found his words, with difficulty.

“Fuckin’ hell, Bucky,” his voice sounded like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel as it pushed through his teeth. “How are you so fucking perfect? Being so fucking sweet, opening yourself up for me—another finger, baby--, making your hole ready for my knot, sucking my cock like you were made for it. And you were, weren’t you? Made for me to fuck and knot and claim and keep. My perfect Omega. Mine. _Mine_.”

Out of nowhere it seemed, Bucky felt an orgasm wrenched out of him, pulled from the base of his skull, where Steve’s hands gripped him tight, all the way to where three of his metal fingers dug against his prostate. He howled his pleasure as Steve lifted his mouth off his cock, keeping him from choking, snarling in his ear as he shoved and situated the Omega to face away from him.

“You beautiful bitch,” the Alpha praised against his spine as he wrenched Bucky’s hand from his body, pulling back to watch the Omega’s hole flutter, clench, and weep. “My pretty baby, still cumming from just my voice. Fucking gorgeous.”

Bucky sobbed at the sudden sensation of emptiness, dropping his shoulders to the mattress as he canted his hips back and forth. “Alpha,” he hiccuped, arching his back as the last spurts of his orgasm splatter the sheets below him. “Alpha, please. _Please!_ I can’t—I--I--”

Steve didn’t even bother trying to soothe the Omega; he just shuffled forward on his knees, and slapped his cock against Bucky’s twitching hole, pressing forward implacably, a feral grin twisting his lips as Bucky wailed. There were no more words as Steve pummeled against Bucky’s body, hips slamming his ass, palms pressed against shoulders, teeth locked to spine. Snarls, whines, growls, and whimpers filled the air as Steve eagerly lost himself in the velvet fire that was Bucky’s body. All higher thought was washed away on the tide of pleasure, and Steve let himself revel in drowning. The sweet sounds his Omega was dropping into the sheets danced across his skin like sparks, and he shifted his face higher to nuzzle against Bucky’s cheek. When he turned his head further, and started seeking out his lips, Steve acquiesced just enough to tangle his tongue with Bucky’s in the loosest definition of a kiss, trading breaths and sounds as Steve felt the lava flow of his orgasm start to build.

The cacophony of flesh meeting flesh grew sharper and louder as Steve felt his knot growing and snagging with each thrust and pull of Bucky’s hole. Bucky’s whines grew higher in pitch with every tug, reaching his hands back to scrabble at Steve’s thighs, wordlessly begging for what Steve desperately wanted to give him. A primal roar ripped from his throat as he dug his fingers into Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him upwards until he was kneeling as well, his back plastered to Steve’s chest. Steve’s hands slid underneath Bucky’s arms to scrape his nails down the Omega’s chest, catching his nipples, making him arch and keen.

The size difference between them pricked at Steve, amplified by his rut, and he funneled the frustration into playing his Omega like an instrument. His palms stroked, his fingers pinched and plucked, and his teeth nipped and scraped every inch of skin he could reach. He spanned the trembling muscles of Bucky’s spread thighs with his hands, dragging the palms upward to frame the bobbing length of Bucky’s cock, similar to how he’d done it to Steve before. He slid his hands closer and closer, caging the flesh without actually touching it, grinding his own cock against Bucky’s prostate with a ruthlessness he marveled at.

Bucky’s head was lolled forward, hair hanging lank or stuck to his cheeks, neck, and shoulders. Sweat and tears rained from his face, and his breath sawed loudly between soft hiccups. Steve couldn’t see his face, but he sounded wrecked, and the Alpha could only feel savage pride as he yanked the Omega’s hips down to meet his own.

There was no stopping it now. They could both feel it, the final swell of Steve’s knot as it forced it’s way past Bucky’s stretched and straining rim, popping through with a delicious finality that had them crying out. Steve closed the circle of his palms, wrapping long, strong fingers around Bucky’s cock and pulling once. Twice. Thrice--

The scream broke in Bucky’s throat, crackling out of his mouth as a nearly soundless keen as he spilled over Steve’s entwined hands, folding forward at the waist to plant his palms against the sheets, locking his elbows so he doesn’t fall over completely. He struggled to hold himself up as Steve continues to grind his hips upwards, pressing tighter and tighter until he howls loud and long, and Bucky shudders at the splash of warmth coating his insides.

Neither of them move beyond the uncontrollable tremors and shivers that wrack their forms. It takes several long minutes for Steve to stop pulsing inside his lover, spilling into him to the point of near discomfort as his imperatives do their damndest to make babies. After one last gasping shudder, and the final remnants of his burning rut are banked for a while, Steve slumps fully against Bucky’s heaving back. They think nothing of shuffling slightly to the side of the sizable wet spot the bed has become, and flopping over—carefully--and curling up, not even caring that they were facing the foot of the bed. It wasn’t long before unconsciousness claimed them both.


	6. Chapter 6--Epilouge

A long night passed into morning, with Steve waking Bucky three more times before sunrise to grind his still inflated knot into the Omega’s limp and whimpering body until he emptied again and again, both barely awake to participate, and easily falling back asleep afterwards.  The sunlight trickling through the curtains saw Bucky straddling Steve’s lean hips as he rolled and writhed just enough to wring a small orgasm from both of them that was a bit more pain than pleasure. Afterwards, Steve finally deflated enough for them to unlock, the resulting mess both impressive and a hassle to clean. Especially since Steve was incredibly reluctant to let Bucky out of his sight.

Or let him remove any of Steve’s scent from his person.

Or even put any kind of clothing on.

And he went about making sure none of that happened in such a way that Bucky couldn’t even feel smothered or oppressed or anything. He just felt loved and cherished. 

Damn Alpha.

T he next few days passed in a lust filled haze, as they went about marking every surface of Steve’s apartment with their scents. Bucky really enjoyed being locked in Steve’s lap on the couch, his chin resting on Steve’s shoulder while he  scrolled through his phone , and Steve stroking his spine as he watched TV. It was deliciously dirty while also being sweetly domestic.

And the way Steve insisted on taking care of him...he always thought that is was the Omega’s imperative to provide and care-for, but the way Steve washed his hair  while Bucky sucked his cock , or fed him by hand while fucking him across his dining table...well, Bucky already knew that they both went against the norms of their designations. He didn’t know why he was so surprised.  And the fact that it all interconnected with sex? Made it even better.

A nd the night where they both knew; Steve’s rut was ending, the fire was almost burned out. They lay locked, face to face in bed, rocking softly together as their climaxes crept instead of raced, and they whispered how much they meant to each other, how deeply they cared. When they fed each other those three words as pleasure ruptured between them... 

But soon enough, Steve’s rut left him in a rush, and Bucky easily picked up where Steve left off. He stayed with the Alpha for a few more days, making sure he got enough to eat, rested constantly, and regained all the reserves that he’d burned during the week. It felt as simple as breathing to exist like this, the push and pull of their energies making every day feel like a dance for just the two of them. Sure, it wasn’t always perfect: Steve would try to scruff him, be all ‘big-bad-Alpha-do-what-I-say’, and Bucky would have to remind him that he wasn’t just an Omega to be pushed around. Sometimes Bucky would make demands based solely on designation, and Steve would show him that such a thing was harmful, to everyone, and to both of them especially. But, honestly? It was so easy, it was perfect.

So when the day came, when Bucky couldn’t find any other excuse to stay, and when Steve had no reason to assume he would, it was so easy for the Alpha to ask, “Move in with me?”

And it was so easy for the Omega to smile, feel that ‘click’ in his heart, and press his answer to grinning lips.

“Yes, Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Done! Now, I am going to try and get a third part going, where they actually solidify their bonds (curse you, slow-burn-yet-fucking-wildfire-story!), but I have found that working on multiple stories at once is not helping me in any way. I'm gonna try and clear up some of my backlog before I start on that, so I appreciate your support and patience. Wish me luck!


End file.
